


I Thought the World Would be Smaller

by prettybirdy979



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Crossover, Gen, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5309861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say it's a small world. </p>
<p>Jessica Jones and Matt Murdock could testify to that. You know, once they eventually meet. </p>
<p>(Or five times their worlds overlapped plus one time they met)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Thought the World Would be Smaller

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/6602.html?thread=11587274#cmt11587274) prompt.
> 
> Thanks to PipMer for looking it over!

**One: Foggy and Luke**

'Why are we drinking here?' Foggy asks, sure there's a reason but unable to sort out what it was through the haze of drink that's decided to descend upon his mind. Rude.

He can see Matt roll his eyes behind his glasses. Okay he can't actually see it but Matt has the 'I'm rolling my eyes right now' look on his face. 'Because... because closer. That's why.'

'Josie's is a health hazard,' Karen says, downing her drink. 'This place though, this place is purrfect.' She then giggles at her joke, catching the attention of the bartender.

He drifts down to their seats at the bar. 'Can I get you three anything?'

Foggy peers at him. 'Are you Luke? The Luke of Luke's. Hehe.' Matt giggles and Foggy hastens to add, 'Dude you are missing out on seeing how absolutely built the Duke of Luke's is. No, Nuke of Luke's.'

By now Matt's near pissing himself laughing and Karen's not far off. And the bartender, Luke, has cracked a smile. 'I'll take that as a no.'

'Noo, don't go.' Foggy holds his hand out for the alcohol and an idea occurs to him. 'If I can beat you in an arm wrestle can we have more alcohol?'

Luke raises an eyebrow then shrugs with a small smile. 'Sure, sounds fair to me. Fair warning, I'm tough to beat.'

'And I suck at things that like, require exercise so this should be interesting,' Foggy says over the laughter of his friends.

'You can totally beat him,' Karen laughs.

Matt starts nodding. 'Totally. Totally. I can't see them but I'm sure that Duke's muscles are nothing compared to yours. Oh I mean Nuke. Or was it Puke?'

Foggy waves a hand at Matt. 'You shut it.' He turns to Luke and offers the same hand. 'Please don't break me.'

Luke smiles, 'I'll try not to.'

His grip is light but sure and Matt counts them down. The second he says 'Go!', Foggy throws all his weight and strength behind his hand.

Luke's hand doesn't even twitch. It's like Foggy's not doing anything. Sure that he's already lost, Foggy grabs their hands with his other hand while ignoring Karen's cries of cheating that only beat out Matt's by a moment - Matt must be so drunk he's forgotten he needs people to narrate the world. Or he knows Foggy too well.

'Oh come on,' Foggy says after a minute of frantic tugging does nothing. 'Can't I even get a twitch.' Luke grins, and twitches.

Forward, so Foggy's arm is headed for the bar. Foggy shrieks in alarm. 'Don't break me!'

Matt laughs. 'Please don't. As funny as it would be, we need him.'

'What for?' Karen slurs. 'You're a lawyer too, only need one to do the many many cases we have. Many being zero. Zero cases.'

'Good point. Have fun.'

Foggy glares at his 'friends' as Luke finally ends the match by gently forcing Foggy's hand to the bar's surface. 'I'm cutting you guys off now,' he says. 'As per our deal.'

'One last one for the road?' Matt begs, looking completely in the wrong direction.

Luke laughs. 'Fine. One more for the road.'

'You're the best and we should remember to come here more often,' Foggy slurs, certain that come morning it's going to be hard to remember his name let alone to come here more often.

He's right too.

********

**Two: Malcolm and Karen**

He's walking down the street, headed home and trying to ignore the voice in him screaming for a hit and making his skin itch when he sees the pale blonde in worn clothing dart into an alleyway before him like the dogs of hell are at her heels. Malcolm doesn't make a conscious decision to follow her; he's turning into the alleyway before it even registers.

She's huddled against the wall, her hands drawn up but holding mace and her breathing is all over the place. Panic attack. Malcolm slowly approaches her, trying to make her aware he's there.

He knows when she spots him because that's the moment her already lacking breathing disappears. 'No, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help.'Through her tears she manages to glare at him. Which, yeah okay. He wouldn't believe him either. But that's going to change.

'My name is Malcolm. I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that?' She shakes her head and he nods, sitting down. 'That's okay. I'm going to stay here, away from you and breathe. When you feel you can, you can try and match it. I'll stay here until everything is okay. Promise.'

She just stares at him, fear and panic in her eyes. Malcolm does the only thing he can do. He sits there and breathes. In and out. In.....and out. In.....and out.

Slowly, the woman's breaths start to slow and match his. Malcolm offers a hand and she jerks away, her breathing picking up but he doesn't press. He just leaves his hand there and eventually her breathing calms more. She takes the hand. He squeezes it and offers a smile.

'It's okay. I know it sounds weird but you're safe here in this alleyway. Promise. You're okay, just breathe.'

She laughs, 'Easy for you to say,' she manages to say breathlessly.

He shakes his head. 'Not it's not,' he says, every memory of blood and pain fresh in his mind. 'But that's why I know right now, in this moment, we're safe. We're okay. So long as we keep breathing, we're okay.'

'Yeah... yeah,' she nods. Her breathing is something near normal and while she still looks pale, she doesn't look like she's panicking.

'Want to try standing?' He rises and slowly helps her to her feet. She's a little unsteady but manages to stay upright. 'Do you live nearby?'

'I...yes. Well, there's somewhere safe I can go.'

Malcolm nods. 'Well, I'm happy to walk you there,' she tenses as he expected, 'or not. What ever makes you feel safe.'

She seems to consider before shaking her head. 'It's not far. I'll be safe.'

He gives her hand a final squeeze and releases it. 'Okay. Okay.' He turns to leave and makes it to the end of the alleyway before she calls out.

'Thank you.'

With a smile he turns back to her, 'It's fine.'

He's halfway home before he realises he never got her name. Well, that's fine. A city this big, it's unlikely he'll ever meet her again.

********

**Three: Trish and Foggy**

Every time Trish has to change when she gets her morning brew, she finds herself extremely nervous. All it takes is for one person in the shop to be a fan - of her new or old work - and suddenly her morning is full of autographs and pictures with not a single coffee in sight. There's a reason she tries to find a place of people that either don't recognise her or don't care.

Her last place just switched management and they _do_ care that someone moderately famous likes their coffee. Even though it's now absolute shit.

So here Trish is, in line for coffee behind a well dressed long haired man. She's been waiting for ten minutes now and the line seems to have barely moved. Impatiently, she checks her watch and groans. If the line doesn't start moving soon, she's going to have give up on coffee for the morning.

'Late for work?' the man ahead of her asks and she gives him a fake smile.

'Not yet but soon.'

He suddenly gestures in front of him. 'Here, you go first.'

She blinks in confusion. 'Really?'

'Yup. I don't have to worry about my boss being angry at me if I'm late and I know one of my coffees is going to take forever. My best friend is the most finicky man in existence and it shows in his damned coffee.'

Grateful, she steps past him and takes his place in line. 'Thank you. Are you sure your boss won't mind?'

He nods. 'I mean, my partner might but since it's his damned coffee that'll make me late, he can't complain.'

Something clicks. 'You're your own boss.'

'Guilty,' he shrugs. 'Foggy Nelson,' he says, holding out his hand.

'Trish Walker,' she says and waits. He's about her age, chances are he knows the show.

And sure, there's a light of knowledge in his face but he doesn't say anything about it, just shakes her hand. 'Nice to meet you Trish,' he says instead and she almost sighs in relief. 'What brings you to the best coffee place in Hell's Kitchen?'

'The best? That's high praise.'

'Well, any place that has someone as lovely as you in it is the best,' he says and a part of Trish admires the smoothness of the line, 'but this is objectively the best. We tried every single place and this is definitely the only one worth drinking from.'

The barista calls her then and Trish places her order with a smile. She lingers for a moment as Foggy gives his own order - two fairly normal coffees - one with a cookie - and then one extremely convoluted sounding one. The barista starts nodding along halfway through; it's clear she's heard this before.

'You weren't kidding about finicky,' Trish comments as they move to the collection space. 'That's one hell of an order.'

Foggy shrugs. 'I know but it's how he likes it. Not that he'll ever admit to it.'

'Cookie for Foggy?' the barista calls and Foggy takes it just as another one calls Trish's order.

'Nice to meet you,' she says and then her eyes widen as Foggy puts the cookie in her hand. 'Umm-'

'I know, kinda creepy but if you don't want it, maybe you can bribe your boss with it or something. It's just... you seem like the type of person who's too busy to eat and,' he shrugs, 'I know what it's like to be the person watching that. Plus everyone deserves a cookie.'

Trish finds herself smiling at his smile. 'True. Thank you.'

'You're welcome. Now, go! Don't be late!'

With a final smile, Trish dashes out. She's definitely coming back here again.

********

**Four: Brett and Malcolm**

Brett doesn't think much of the curly haired black man, making his way into the station. As in, he doesn't have much to think on him. He looks familiar, in that sense that Brett's probably seen him around. Hell's Kitchen sometimes feels like the smallest neighbourhood in the world.

He's twitching a bit, clearly nervous, but he walks up to Brett with confidence. 'I'm looking for an officer Mahoney,' he says then seems to read Brett's name badge. 'Ah.'

'You got me. What can I do for you Mr-?'

'Ducasse. Malcolm Ducasse. I, ah, work with Jessica Jones?' The mention of the name has adrenaline spiking through Brett's veins as the memory of holding a gun to a friend's head because he was told to flashes through his mind. 'We're working on a missing person's case and were hoping you might be able to help.' He seems to consider what he just said. 'Well, I was hoping.'

Brett wants this man out of his station now but a missing person... 'What's the name?'

'Thomas Jones.' And now Brett remembers, the teenager he'd run into two days ago. He'd been terrified of being sent home and well... Brett knew places a teen could live in Hell's Kitchen that were safer than a home that beat him.

'Who's looking for him?'

Ducasse smiles. 'His grandmother. Wants to get him out of his current situation.'

His grandmother. Brett makes a snap decision. 'I did meet him. He said he was sixteen and had the ID to prove it.' He shrugs. 'So I sent him on his way, with a few addresses. No idea if he took them up.'

He rattles off the shelter's he'd sent the kid to and Ducasse takes careful notes. 'Thanks.'

'Hey, how'd you know I spoke to him?' Brett asks as Ducasse turns to go.

'The streets have eyes,' Ducasse and leaves.

Right. Either Daredevil told them or some other informant of that PI's. She's such bad news, really.

Somehow Brett knows he's going to end up helping her too. As if his life wasn't complicated enough already.

********

**Five: Karen and Jessica**

She's staring at the bottom of her glass when a dark haired woman pulls up the seat beside her and orders a double. Karen looks up when she slams the glass to the bar a moment later and orders another.

Impressed, despite herself, Karen raises an eyebrow. The woman must notice her glance because she looks over. 'See something you like?' she growls.

Karen shrugs. 'You make that look easy.'

Something in the woman softens an inch. 'It gets easier. Possibly not a good thing but I don't care.' She downs the next drink just as fast as she did the first. 'You got a name?'

'Karen. You?'

'Jessica. Your blood or theirs?'

She blinks in surprise. 'What?'

Jessica taps her hands against the bar. 'You keep glancing at your hands. Is it your blood or theirs you see?'

'Always theirs,' Karen finds herself admit before she can help it. Then she tenses, fear flooding her.

But Jessica only nods. 'Theirs is always harder to clean.' She takes a third drink then fishes for some cash in her pocket. 'Piece of advice? Either learn to drink faster than you are or find a way to deal with the blood that'll help. Don't half ass your escape like you are.'

With that, she's gone, leaving Karen to contemplate her glass.

*********

**Plus One: Matt and Jessica**  

'Daredevil,' the woman says. Matt just helped her win an extremely outmatched fight but it was definitely him helping her. She barely needed his help.

'You have me at a disadvantage.'

She must smirk because it's in her voice. 'Jessica Jones. Do you have a first name or do you prefer Lucifer.'

'Lucy works in a bind,' Matt smirks. 'But I've had people call me Mike, if you insist on a name.'

With a final kick at the last man to attack her, she steps forward. 'That's not your real name.'

'Not even close,' Matt lies.

She laughs. 'Hell's Kitchen isn't that big. I'll find you.'

He shrugs. 'You can try.'

*********

'Okay, when I said 'you can try' I didn't mean show up to my place of work with an entourage,' Murdock complains before taking a slice of pizza from the box Malcolm had insisted on bringing. He's busy talking to Murdock's secretary, the blonde woman from the bar the other day. It seems they'd meet already too, though Malcolm hadn't managed a name before. Small world, huh.

Jessica shrugs and takes her own piece. She considers saving a piece for Trish but from the way she and Murdock's partner Foggy Nelson are talking, it'll be a while before she notices there's food to be had. Best not to let it go cold.

'You didn't say not to,' she says and Murdock sighs.

'I figured that was implied. How'd you even find me?' He's seemed mostly resigned to being found out and believed her instantly when she said his secret was safe with her. Which, huh. New.

Even if he's right to do so. 'Good old fashioned detective work.'

He gives her a flat stare over his glasses. 'You got lucky.'

'I got a bit lucky. Friend of mine remembered the three of you from his bar; commented on how graceful you were for a blind man when telling me about the arm wrestling.' She ignores how he mouths 'arm wrestling’ in confusion. 'Add to that your connection to Wilson Fisk... and it was an educated guess.' She smirks again. 'Then I spotted Daredevil climbing out your window. Figured either you were him or you were fucking him, so I came here.'

Murdock looks reluctantly impressed. 'And the entourage?'

'Here to be amused.' And to show you that I'm not a threat to you and yours... and to make you aware I don't think you're a threat to me and mine.

He takes the final slice of pizza. 'Maybe we can manage that.'


End file.
